Hawthorn the Wretched

The days have whittled away it seems; reports had poured in about villagers missing or found slain near the edge of the Sylvan forest. Warnings have been for naught to enter the forbidden Sylvan Woods as for a fortnight we continue to discover remains near the woods. Alas, I thought to myself, here my clan brothers and sisters & I travel looking for more villagers; through these prodigious towering trees. I have an overwhelmingly uneasy feeling that the trees watch us as we move through the dense underbrush. It's silent here, light grows thinner the deeper we traverse. Out of no where the ground under our feet shifts and shakes..Prepare yourself Hawthorn the Wretched has cometh...

Massive claws that have the look of jagged teeth emerge from the soil and surround my company. Tearing at the front line, it wreaks havoc on our armor. The wooden claws try to tear away our equipment; I've earned a cut across my face as result for helping my clan mates hack off the fingertips and have made the claws now vulnerable. I press my advantage "Aaargh" I screamed, my clan mates invoke the Battle Cry, as we cast Rain of Fire to shower down around us. With an anguished shriek that rebounded around the forest, the demonic sight of the wretched fingers curl back."I've heard of this!" I say aloud, my thoughts rambling in my head. "The elders spoke of this when i was young, there is said to be an ancient forest God here. Sporavek the Unruly..WE HAVE TO RALLY CLAN!!" I began then shouted as these pod-like seeds emerge from Sporavek's claws; We watch as they blast in to the air.."COMPANY!! SHIELDS UP!!" Our Elven Shields do not disappoint as it blocks the poison from touching our skin. With the venom emptied from the barbs, they retract, wither and die. Unbeknownst to my clan and I, we have walked straight in to Sporavek himself. With the last of the seedlings bouncing back toward him, they are absorbed by Sporavek's wooden flesh. The spores have been cloaked by some kind of iridescent film, they curl in shape to look like thorns on the surface. The spores shield starts to ooze a poison, as we prepare for the next wave..

The foreboding shaped pupas have shown a weakness to light, the archers cast orb of illumination on their arrows and shoot them to the tree tops. The children of the Pod burst under the immense light that radiates from above. They have met their violent end. A thunderous sound and ground quakes under us as Sporavek is enraged by the loss of his spawn. He calls for the ancient rains of Stahl; liquid steel pours from above, enveloping my clan brothers and sisters & I. With the Chalice of Life we persevere momentarily. Sporavek absorbs the liquid steel; he watches in sardonic approval as we writhe in pain. I blanket us in the Fog of War and a Battle Fury; with the Torrent Talisman glowing bright we break free, Sporavek's grimace radiates across his bark flesh as we strike. The Abyssal blade hungry, we slash at the bark flesh; a volley of arrows shot over our heads. A single arrow in the right time and place has sealed Sporavek's fate. The thwarted Sylvan twists and writhes, contorting in to a warped gnarl. It sinks in to the ground, banished once more from this world. As Sporavek lies slain, small flowers and vines begin to grow swiftly across it as the sun shines through the canopy again. "Another glorious Victory for us my brothers and sisters. Beautiful this day, let us make our way home, my family" I say to the company at large with more adoration than ever before...